SORBETTI

EXT. PRIVATE BEACH – LATE AFTERNOON

The sun is low, slanting across the rocks faces in long, golden streaks. The waves, saturated blue green, are gentle and lazy on the sand.

MUSE lies back on a striped towel beside her companion. She is wearing a pink bathing suit and straw sun hat. A picnic basket between them, a half drunk bottle of wine, a torn baguette, fruit. COMPANION is leisurely smoking, his paperback is facedown in the sand.

Their bodies are relaxed. Bare feet tangled. Her scarf tossed next to her.

COMPANION

You’re not staying longer?

MUSE

I never said I would.

COMPANION

You never said anything.

She props herself on one elbow and reaches for a peach. Takes a bite. Lets the juice run down her wrist. We see a beautiful gold bracelet.

MUSE

That’s not true. I said I liked you.

((pause, gestures))

That night in Positano. When we were dancing.

COMPANION

You said you liked the music.

MUSE

Same thing!

They both laugh. He brushes sand from her ankle.

MONTAGE – FLASHES OF THEIR SUMMER

Amalfi. Jewelry shop. The shopkeeper is showing off a bracelet on a velvet tray. Muse looks at it longingly. Cut to driving down the coast, sunglasses, cypress and lemon trees and rocky coastline whizzing by. Holding hands. Cut to sharing granita under striped umbrellas, her sunglasses sliding down her nose. Laughing. Cut to interior hotel room, dim and quiet. Her bare feet and legs. She is wearing a Companion’s tuxedo jacket. He hands her a jewelry box. She smiles. Cut to dancing in a courtyard strung with lanterns, arms around his neck, bracelet catching the light. Cut to swimming in the early morning.

BACK TO SCENE – EXT. BEACH – MOMENTS LATER

She stands, brushing sand from her hips. Ties her pucci scarf lazily at her waist.

MUSE

This was lovely.

COMPANION

You’re using the past tense already?

She leans down. Kisses him lightly.

MUSE
(smiling)

It was always going to be the past tense.

He watches her slip on sandals, collect her tote bag, her white linen shirt.

COMPANION

You’ll keep the bracelet?

She smiles at him confidently and adoringly.

MUSE

Of course. And the memories.

She turns and walks toward the narrow stone path that winds up the cliff side. He stays where he is, squinting after her, one hand shading his eyes. Down at the shoreline, the tide lifts and settles, rhythmically.

TEXT OVER WHITE:

Sorbetti. One-of-a-kind pieces, gathered at the edge of summer.